Splinter
by reen212000
Summary: Sometimes missions go wrong. Sometimes they go pear-shaped. Rodney's angry, and John's not talking. Written for Stealth Dragon!
1. Chapter 1

Splinter

"I'm not going to argue about this again, Sheppard," Rodney said with a little concern and a lot of exasperation. "Why are you even here? Go back to bed."

John shrugged indifferently, immediately regretting the movement. "I'm not arguing, Rodney. I agree with you."

"Of course you would." McKay dropped his pen, and looked up from his computer. Lancing his friend with sharp blue eyes, Rodney smiled bitterly. "So you want me to say, 'Why yes, Colonel. It's all your fault you killed twenty people last week. Never mind it was an old, old Ancient stronghold with an AI bent on revenge. But it's certainly the reason you were turned into an instrument of destruction.'" He rose menacingly from his stool. "Or how about this: Because you were trying to protect your team against certain doom, perhaps you should have went down with the ship, eh, Colonel?"

"I... no, I just –"

"Just what, Sheppard? That week you spent in a daze wasn't enough that you have to keep bringing up this subject? Do you even realize how _awful_ you look?" John flinched, and Rodney took another step closer. "Why is it only you get to be the whipping boy for everything? Yes, Colonel. In my innermost thoughts, I _do_ blame you. I blame you for a lot of things. I blame you that I'm heavily bruised and injured because some idiotic people thought you were the Devil himself with your ATA gene."

Sheppard froze in place as Rodney advanced on him. It was exactly what he was thinking, but he never thought Rodney would say it out loud.

"I blame you for Teyla's scrambled brains, and Ronon's gimpy leg, because you made the natives restless, and they wanted to kill us. Then they died. Why? Because you lost your temper, and fed it to an equally mixed up computer that contained the artificial consciousness of a lunatic." McKay crossed arms tightly across his chest, and lifted his chin defiantly. "Now, you can just run off to the far corners of Atlantis so everyone can worry about Poor Little Wounded Colonel Sheppard. I have work to do." With an audible snap, he closed his laptop and marched out of the room.

He'd done it. Called Colonel Idiot's bluff.

As Rodney stalked down the corridor towards his quarters, he felt empty inside.

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Watching McKay leave, John felt like he was somewhere outside of his body. Rodney had only said out loud exactly what he himself thought. He'd also flayed away John's tough outer shell, and went deep into his heart with careless ease. John willed sound to come out of his mouth, but there was nothing.

Nothing inside, nothing outside. Everything felt cold, empty, and dead.

Suddenly, the lab where he stood was far too big. John moved stiffly out into the corridor, blindly finding his way to a transporter. Exiting on a level deep within The City, John placed a hand against the rough wall maintaining his balance. Concentrating on breathing, he walked slowly to a small room he had found a week ago. He'd never had a panic attack until last week, and this is where he ended up.

It felt like a place for decompression to him. The room held one large chair and a long fainting couch, which seemed appropriate right now. Instead of the dim blue lights seen around The City, this place had a calming green that illuminated the ceiling.

John collapsed on the elevated couch, wishing he had eaten at some point during the day. However, the thought of food churned his stomach. Dark spots clouded his vision. _I can't believe I'm fainting on a fainting couch,_ was John's last thought.

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Elizabeth Weir surveyed the room, looking for a certain face. "Rodney? Do you know if Colonel Sheppard will be –"

"Why are you asking me? Do I look like a Life Signs Detector? I don't understand why you people ask me these inane questions every day. I am not his keeper, and I am tired of being the only one who can find him when he decides to sulk." McKay rose from table and limped out of the conference room.

He wanted to stay mad at everyone, but Rodney found it increasingly difficult. The mission to the Marlean planet was supposed to be easy. Of course. But put a raging storm, superstitious natives, and a long buried city together, you've got a problem. Add haunted "caves", which turned out to be broken and overgrown rooms, and a ubiquitous gene causing flashing lights, and you've got trouble. Stir in a flawed AI with intent to harm, and you've got a bloody nightmare.

Rodney came back to his lab furious. Of course he could find Sheppard. He'd built a special LSD that couldn't be overridden by Atlantis. Curiosity made him fish it out of his desk drawer. "Yep, same place he's been all week."

Tossing the device onto the desk, Rodney paced the lab. As much as he wanted to go to his former friend, he just couldn't see how it would make things better.

"I'll be damned if I'm apologizing."

"Then don't," a voice replied from the door. Ronon strolled into the lab, trying to conceal the limp.

"What do you want?"

"I want you to go find Sheppard."

Arms crossed, chin out. "You find him! I'm tired –!" Rodney let out a great sigh, and sank down on a stool. "I'm tired." Shutting down his computers, Rodney left the lab.

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John woke up cold and shivering, despite the mysterious blanket tucked around him. _I don't remember bringing one down here._ The cool room wasn't good for his shoulder, which was now stiff and aching. Rising from the couch, John folded the blanket, carefully placing it on the chair. Wandering back to the transporter, John thought of a nice hot shower. He pleaded with The City to have his shower ready in five minutes, as he blindly found his way to his quarters, hoping to avoid everyone in these early hours.

He checked his watch._ Dammit! I missed the briefing!_ Tapping his radio, he called for Elizabeth. "I'm really sorry. Guess I overslept."

"_I guess you did. Listen, John," she said quietly. "I think you should go see –"_

"Thanks, 'Lizabeth. I'll take it under advisement. Sheppard out." He yanked the radio out of his ear, and entered his quarters. Quickly shedding his clothes, John stepped under the spray and willed everything to flow away like the water.

Drying off, he studiously avoided the mirror. He knew he should shave, but he wasn't going on a mission anytime soon, and wouldn't be on full duty until he saw Kate. _I'll be fine. Just one more day. I'll be fine._ Before he left, John stole a glance in the mirror.

_Do you even realize how awful you look?_ Rodney had asked him last night.

Now he knew.

Turning away, he left the bathroom. Immediately, he was hit by the smell of coffee and sweet cadur bread. Instead of churning, his stomach actually growled at him. John wondered how Teyla got in his room, until he saw the Fun Size packet of MnMs. Rodney. _Teyla's off-world anyway._

Sinking down to his bed, John felt an incredible sadness settle on his chest. _Stop it, dammit! What is your problem, Sheppard?_ Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the old city crumbling around them, crushing some heavily misguided people. _Your team is safe. You did your job. Move on._

John dressed quickly, and didn't bother shaving or combing his hair. Pinching a piece of bread, John popped the morsel in his mouth. In seconds, the whole slice was gone, and his belly was less angry with him. He left his room in search of mindless tasks, snagging the MnMs off the tray. Paperwork awaited him, and he needed to write a report for the incident. Perhaps if he put it in writing what happened on Marlea, he would be able to put it all past him.

When he arrived at his suspiciously neat office, John saw Elizabeth, her head bent over his desk. "Am I getting that predictable?"

Elizabeth gave him a rare shy smile without looking up. "Not really. I was just leaving you a note. I – Oh my God!" Her eyes were wide with concern, she came around the desk in a flash. "What happened to you?"

"What?" John blinked, brows furrowing with confusion.

"You look positively awful!" Elizabeth snatched up his hand, which he promptly snatched back. "Next to you, I'm the one with a tan. Have you eaten at _all_ since you came back? Do you need Carson?"

Taking an involuntary step back, John's eyes hardened. "Is that what your note is about?"

Her brows quirked in surprise. "What? No. I wanted to ask you to lunch. Thought maybe we could discuss Rodney and his sudden turn for the worse."

John's eyes widened with fear, his heart stuttering in his chest. "What? I just saw him last night; he seemed fine! I – what happened? Did I do something? Just –"

"Whoa, whoa! John! There's nothing wrong with him." Elizabeth wanted to touch his arm, but he seemed to anticipate her movement and stepped out of reach. Again. "Unless you call biting off everyone's head without provocation a medical condition."

Suddenly light-headed, John collapsed into a chair. Elbows on knees, he scrubbed trembling hands over his face. His damp hair was the next victim, as his hands carded through. The events of last week kept bombarding him at inopportune moments. Yes, he would have to speak to someone eventually. But for now, he really needed to straighten himself out first.

"...hear me? John?" Elizabeth's urgent and quiet voice broke through his fugue state. He startled at her nearness.

"I'm fine. Just have a lot of things on my mind." He rose, locking his knees against the vertigo. "I'll have that report for you in an hour." John moved out of reach around to the other side of the desk. Even in the soft light, his thin face was all sharp angles.

Elizabeth frowned. Her friends were falling apart, and there was nothing she could do unless they told her what exactly happened. Something terrible occurred on that planet, and she knew they only told her half the story. At any rate, Elizabeth wanted to lock the pilot and the scientist in a very small room, and let them duke it out. Verbally, of course. In her heart of hearts, she knew Rodney would throw the first punch. She turned to leave. "If you need anything –"

"I'll call. Thank you."

_Dismissed._

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Rodney entered John's quarters quickly. He knew the pilot was still in his office, so he took the time to look around. Rodney's hands were full with a tray of food and a wooden box containing a chessboard and pieces.

"Okay. No broken mirrors, that's a good sign. Breakfast gone, and his little treat too. Good, good."

He placed the tray on the bed, and the box on the desk. Pulling out his souped up LSD, Rodney checked on John's progress. Corridor six, main tower, heading north. "All right. He's on the move."

Rodney chided himself for speaking aloud to himself, but it helped him concentrate. He hastily set up the chessboard, picking white so he could make the opening move. After several simulations, and guesses for the next three moves, Rodney checked the room again. He nodded in satisfaction, then left quickly.

Walking the opposite direction, he made sure he wouldn't run into the colonel. Somewhere between Antarctica and Atlantis, the self-centered, arrogant, and stubborn astrophysicist grew a heart. It wasn't that he never cared, after all he recently got reacquainted with his sister. The simple fact of the matter being, it was easier – safer – not to show too much interest in people.

While in Atlantis, there was no way to predict how and when one would die. Rodney decided long ago to keep people at a distance, however, a messy haired, highly intelligent flyboy sauntered into his life. He found it disturbing how quickly John Sheppard got under his skin.

The drawback was the colonel's tendency to get into trouble. Not just snatching a cookie out of the cookie jar trouble, but the life-threatening, bloody, weapons drawn kind of trouble. One day, Rodney would figure out why a person would step in front of a bullet to save someone else. There were no equations to understand that kind of behavior.

For now, he would watch out for his friend as best he could, even though the guy was a moron.

"Thought you said you weren't going to apologize."

McKay whipped around to find Ronon Dex leaning casually against a wall, lurking out of range of Sheppard's quarters. He was sure the Satedan was keeping an eye on John, which made Rodney feel a tiny bit better. He snorted, as Ronon would've expected, and rolled his eyes. "I'm not. Why are you here?" he asked, continuing down the corridor. The larger man blocked his way. "What?"

"Why won't you talk to him?"

"Why don't you?"

"Lately, I can't even find him half the time. By the time I track him down, he's gone."

Rodney crossed his arms; Specialist Dex was strangely close to whining. "I'm not going to discuss this with you."

Ronon finally let him pass, then fell into step next with Rodney as he shoved forward. "I'm... worried, too."

"And that affects me how, exactly?"

"McKay. I know what you've been doing." Ronon sighed heavily. "That first week was the hardest. But you were there for him. Food, blankets, things that he needed at the right time."

"Look. I'm sure you would've done more if Beckett wasn't sewing your leg back on. Just –" Rodney tapped his leg nervously. "I have to go."

"How do we fix him?" The other man said quietly.

"We can't fix him." Rodney stopped, turning to face his teammate. "There isn't anything we can make him do. He has to come to terms with what happened on his own. Since he's not talking to us right now, we'll just have to wait."

Ronon gave a slight smile, limping forward. "Hungry?"

"Starving." McKay started walking in the opposite direction.

"Mess is this way."

"Got something I need to take care of," Rodney said, walking with determination back towards the colonel's quarters. "Meet you later."

"Teyla'll be back tonight," Ronon called.

"We'll be there."

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John declined Elizabeth's invitation to lunch. He packed up his laptop and headed back to his quarters to complete his report. There was no clear way to begin telling a tale that ended in so much death at his own hands. Just thinking about it made John dizzy and nauseous.

He nearly ran into the door; this time Atlantis was slow on the draw. His door would normally open seconds before he entered his quarters. _Guess my concentration's off._ Another headache started to form at the base of his skull, promising a night spent under the covers in complete darkness.

When he entered, John immediately knew someone had been in his home. The first thing he spotted was a tray of food on his bed, and not without irritation. It lay there between him, and the covers he desperately wanted to be under. Taking a few steps over to his desk, he found a chessboard, one piece moved.

For the first time in weeks, the rusty gears of his brain shifted in direction. "Checkmate in seven moves."

"Checkmate in six. Unless, of course, you're slipping."

John almost startled at the clear voice from behind. But Rodney's nervous energy could be felt a mile away. "Not slipping, McKay. Just thought I'd give you a break."

Rodney crossed his arms, his chin slightly tilted. "Care to wager on that, Colonel?"

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They played in silence; Sheppard had beat him in seven moves the first game. But as he set the board for their fifth game, John swallowed audibly.

"When those people took you and Teyla, my whole world went away. I couldn't see anything but blind rage. That AI may have helped, but it did what I asked it to do." John's trembling hands rested on the table; he stared furiously down at the healing cuts and scrapes all over his arms and fingers. "Yes, I lost my temper. It was so senseless. I turned into, I don't know... I felt like a robot or something. Things popped into my head and I just went with them. It wasn't like I was out of control, I just felt like a soldier. Haven't felt that way since the storm. Fully automatic. After I found a way out, I specifically instructed the AI to raise a shield. I just... just wanted the people to stay away from us.

"I didn't know it would suffocate them. I didn't know it would destroy itself, and the Marleans with it. Rodney, no one was supposed to get hurt. If I hadn't gone into the city... if I just listened to my instincts –"

"And what? You think everyone would have lived?" Rodney wanted to let him talk, but he couldn't stay still for much longer. "Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, that corrupted AI was looking for something. It's possible that's why it was abandoned. But we don't know that. You didn't know the two of you would spur each other on in your quest for justice."

John's eyes widened. His mouth opened, but no sound came. Blinking, he tried again. "As much as I want to wallow in misery, I see your point. I know I can't keep blaming myself. But I'm an easy target."

Snorting, Rodney straightened his pieces. "Next time, take it out on Ronon, not your body. You look worse than a ghost. By the way," he smiled sadly, but there was a spark in his blue eyes. "You made Conan depressed."

"What?" John felt the ice loosen in his chest.

"It's true. I believe the word 'sullen' is more appropriate. And jealous."

"Jealous? You're kidding right?"

Rodney shook his head. "Not at all. He was mad that he could barely find you, and by the time he picked up your trail, you were gone. You're very good when you want to be."

John looked away, embarrassed. "I don't know what you mean."

"Oh, whatever. You were like Kirk in the Tholian web. There were sightings of you everywhere."

Chuckling, John winced against the slight pain in his shoulder and chest.

Rodney caught the movement. "Look, you better take a nap. Don't argue," he said putting up a hand. "Teyla comes back tonight. She'll badger you if you don't at least try to sleep and eat. Not to mention all the stories and greetings she'll bring from the erstwhile Athosians."

"I know, I know. Thanks, by the way."

"For what? You only won three games out of five. I got comeback written all over –"

"For the... for everything."

Rodney sniffed, jutting out his chin. "I don't know what you're talking about."

John waved a dismissive hand. "How you found the green room, I can only guess. But thanks."

Two bright spots appeared on the scientist's cheeks, as he shrugged. "You owe me MnMs."

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the end.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I debated for a long time if I should post a second part. Well, apparently I made a decision. There is a vague reference to my story Ride the Lightning, but you don't have to read it.

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John sat staring at the blank form on his screen. He had started the report a dozen times at least, only to find there were giant gaping chasms in his memory. Sooner or later, he would have to turn to his team to fill in what his mind was obviously protecting from him.

However, he was so very tired. Just trying to remember walking from the gate was a chore; John found himself drifting off. His mind wandered.

_:Exiled. Banished. Abandoned. Dismantled. Alone.:_

_The constant buzzing in his head intensified as they ran closer to the caves. It was nearly unbearable. The undercurrent of sadness, loneliness, and hatred made him feel like he was being ripped apart little by little. The AI merged its thoughts with John's, leading to more confusion._

_:They would pay for this. They would get what they deserved. It was their own fault! They had Rodney and Teyla and Ronon. They tried to split up your team. John Sheppard is the demon protector after all! Show them what that means.:_

_Cold stinging rain, blurring his vision. Screams of pain and agony growing distant. Harsh breathing accompanied the slap of leaves and branches. Everything was green, green, green. And wet._

_His shoulder protested loudly, aching from the weight of Ronon. He dialed the gate, watching Rodney and Teyla hobble through, thankful there wasn't a ramp on the either side. Dragging a semi-conscious Satedan through the gate took all his strength._

_:Your team is safe. The leaders of the Marleans were dead. And we killed them. I killed them for you.:_

The distant screaming came closer, louder; the sadness and terror ripped through his body like a knife through butter.

_Oh wait. That's me._

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Rodney made his way slowly back to Sheppard's quarters. The numbers blurred on his watch as he checked the time. He was exhausted trying to keep one eye on the man, and the other on his staff. Not to mention keeping The City from crumbling around them. Atlantis had developed some interesting symptoms since they returned last week, and Rodney suspected a certain lieutenant colonel.

As he walked the sparsely populated corridor, the lights above flickered. They only flickered that way when reacting to something emotional. Before he knew it, Rodney took off in a dead run, sliding to a halt in front of John's quarters. He palmed the door control, but there was no tell-tale whisper of an opening door. The lights flickered again as he tried the chime.

Nothing.

Rodney pried open the panel, and rearranged two crystals. Somewhere behind the cool metal door, a man screamed. He quickly switched two more crystals when the door stayed stubbornly closed. Finally, the door whispered open, revealing almost complete darkness within; the only light came from a computer screen on Sheppard's desk. The scientist dodged into the room, ready for just about anything. He brought the lights up very slightly, barely illuminating John's quarters.

John was curled into a tight ball in a far corner of the room. His long arms were wrapped around his knees; his forehead pressed against them. He shook violently, his clothes were damp with sweat, clinging to his thin body.

"Sheppard? Can you hear me?" Rodney inched closer, not wanting a foot to the gut. "John?"

The shaking man stilled instantly; his eyes flew open. John's body relaxed as he tried to control his breathing. He kept his feverish eyes on McKay as he knelt down. Rodney nearly backed away due to the intensity of the colonel's stare. Instead, he tentatively reached out, touching John's shoulder. For once, John didn't flinch; maybe he lacked the energy.

A cough racked John's body. Rodney spurred into action, gently pulling John upright. He held the shivering body tightly, leaning back against the wall.

John didn't fight as Rodney pulled him closer. The man was warmer than John's warmest blanket, and he needed Rodney to ground him. However, John could only sag against Rodney's chest, coughing; he needed to catch his breath. He felt Rodney murmur something unintelligible, the words vibrating through his chest.

Rodney felt the cold, clammy skin against his hands, hoping he could get his best friend warm. Through both their shirts, he couldn't believe how thin John had become. He could feel John's knobby spine and the outline of ribs under the threadbare shirt.

The cold floor did neither of them any favors. "You ready to move?"

The spiky head minutely shook under Rodney's chin.

The scientist huffed, listening to John's breathing. "You are a pain in the ass, you know that, Sheppard?" Rodney said quietly. "You were supposed to be taking a nap anyway, not writing that stupid report. Dinner with Teyla and Ronon, then some ridiculous movie."

A deep groan was his only answer.

"You knew it wasn't your fault. Even told me so, remember?" Rodney listened to the colonel's breaths even out and lengthen, letting the sound lull him into a light doze.

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The door opened, emitting Ronon and Teyla.

Teyla reached out, bringing the lights up gradually. "John?"

"Over there," Ronon mumbled, jerking his chin in the direction of the far corner.

They approached the two men sleeping against a wall. Teyla frowned, noting John sleeping in Rodney's arms. Both men looked beyond exhausted, and she hated the thought of waking them. Teyla stepped back, allowing Ronon to get his hands under John's body. He lifted the colonel easily, gently laying him on the bed. Rodney came awake instantly, hands flailing.

"It is all right, Rodney. We are here."

"Did we miss dinner?" Rodney yawned and stretched carefully. He wasn't sure how long he'd been on the floor; his back twinged. The fading bruises still reminded him that he still wasn't quite healed.

"Yeah," Ronon answered. "Neither of you answered your radios," He removed Sheppard's boots, then covered him with two blankets. "We came looking for you after an hour."

"An hour?" Rodney took Teyla's hand as she helped him stand. He walked over to the colonel's desk. "No wonder," he said, turning the laptop around. The screen showed a blank mission report form. Rodney hit two keys to undo what was last erased. As he studied the words, Rodney's frown deepened.

"What is it?"

McKay closed his eyes and scrubbed a hand over his face. "He couldn't remember. Sheppard doesn't know exactly what happened there."

"That sucks."

Rodney rolled his eyes, and sat down. "Yes, He-Man. It does suck, as you so eloquently put it." He tapped his finger against his lips. "That would explain the nightmares, though."

"Perhaps he is remembering, but it is... out of context."

"I think that's an understatement," Rodney snorted.

Ronon glanced between his teammates and Sheppard. "Maybe we should write it."

Rodney slipped off the chair, snapping his fingers. "That's actually not a bad idea." He began pacing around the desk. "This is an official military form, but I really think we should tell our own versions."

Teyla frowned at the sleeping man. John was yet again trying to carry this burden by himself. They had all given a quick, disjointed debrief a few days after they came back, however John's military superiors required a more formal report. The man was barely coherent enough to answer any questions for days after the incident.

"We should begin," she said wearily. "It is late, and I know Elizabeth has been eager to hear the whole story."

The scientist nodded absently. "I'm surprised she was able to hold them off for so long." Rodney turned back to the computer, fingers flying over keys. "Let's get this over with."

Teyla and Ronon eagerly agreed. The sooner they put this whole thing behind them, the faster they could move on.

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John woke to whispering voices. Three blurry people sat around his desk, discussing something around his laptop. His heart leapt as he remembered what he had been doing earlier. As much as he wanted to vault from his bed, John couldn't lift any part of his leaden body. "Hey," he rasped.

Three heads swiveled around in surprise.

"John!" Teyla's warm smile brightened the room. "How are you feeling?" She gracefully rose, and filled a glass with water.

"I've been better." He raised his head and drank deeply. John settled back onto the pillow, peering at Rodney, who was relentlessly typing away. "What's goin' on?"

"We're writing what happened on the planet," Ronon said with a smirk.

"I can't file that with the IOA or SGC though."

Rodney waved one dismissive hand. "We know that, Sheppard. But this will help you give a complete report."

John raised himself gingerly, leaning against the uneven wall behind his bed. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension in his body. "Yeah, I guess." If John was honest with himself, he would be unaccountably touched.

Ronon leaned over Rodney's shoulder. "That must've happened after I got stunned." He frowned, guiltily glancing over at Sheppard. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. This was no one's fault." John was slightly surprised he said it aloud. He shifted straighter, interested in their reports. "Do you mind if I read it before the briefing tomorrow?"

Teyla tilted her head; her stern expression told him otherwise. "First, you will sleep. Tomorrow, we will meet for breakfast. Until then, you will not read or write anything."

Chastised, John scooted back down to his pillows. "Fine. I just want to know what happened."

"And you will, John. But you must take care of yourself first. Rest, and we will see you tomorrow."

His teammates rose as one, heading for the door. Rodney gathered the laptop under his arm, giving a reassuring smile. But Rodney was a horrible liar, and his smile was more of a grimace. But he waved his hand in farewell and nearly ran from the room.

John pulled the covers over his shoulders, closed his eyes, and settled down to sleep. He felt a gentle touch to his forehead; he smiled, smelling Teyla's spicy scent. "Sleep well, John," she whispered.

And he did.

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After breakfast, John went to his office, hoping his laptop would be waiting for him. Rodney promised it would be available to him one hour after breakfast. The computer was indeed waiting for him, all booted up and ready for him to peruse. He skimmed over the details he already knew; the information would let him know how to approach Elizabeth.

_... I could tell something was wrong as soon as we stepped foot on that planet._

Both Rodney and Ronon had the same thought.

_... The colonel wasn't himself, especially when we got to the caves._

True, but John had thought it was just the interference in the air, the maddening crowd all around them, something other than what he actually felt. The evil that permeated those caves was something John wouldn't forget.

_... Everything was fine, until a ginormous tree fell across the entrance._

John had forgotten about the tree. It blocked them in, obscuring the way out. He fell against the wall of the cave, and instantly regretted the move. That's where things get blurry.

_...The people believed the caves haunted, as Colonel Sheppard mentioned. I am not familiar with this term. Spirits, perhaps? When John stumbled over the threshold, the cave illuminated. Also, Heads Up Displays switched on, barely noticeable through the centuries of dust and growth._

There was only whispering and a deep humming noise in his head at that point. John only saw his team being assaulted. He closed his eyes against the memories.

_...They got to me first. The next thing I knew, there was a knife in me, and my own gun was pointed at my head. Good thing it was set to stun, or I'd be a goner._

Something John hadn't considered. The people went for the biggest one first. Then, apparently Rodney, judging by his report. Teyla was the least hurt, and John wondered if it was because of the previous relationship her people had in the past.

_...We were soaked, and cold. Sheppard was barely registering, and my scanner kept beeping at the power surges. For every beep, the colonel spoke a word. I'm not sure if it was Ancient or not, but with each word he tried to stand. Eventually, the crazy people were too busy kicking me to notice Sheppard lurch back toward a wall. What I saw in his eyes was unmitigated rage. Normally, when he's angry, his eyes are... well different. But these were not his eyes. It was like the last embers of a fire stirred up. I swear he'd shoot laser beams at any second._

"Only you, Rodney."

_...The people held John, I believe he may have dislocated his shoulder then; Ronon later reset it when we got to the gate._

That he didn't remember at all. John automatically rubbed his sore shoulder. They all had shoe-shaped bruises; Rodney's were the worse.

_...As soon as John was able, he broke free, placing his hands on the ground. I do not believe I had ever seen John's eyes turn that color before. I know now I do not ever wish to see those eyes again._

Again with the eyes. John wondered how bad he looked; he had nothing to gauge the amount of anger he experienced. Nothing would ever feel like that again.

He hoped.

_...Shields were in place in a manner of seconds. Interestingly, they moved between people, namely me and grunt number four. I watched the shield curve around me, then fly upwards, knocking the grunt backwards away from me. The same thing happened for Teyla. _

_Sheppard stood, holding his hands out, as if he were directing the shields. The words that he spoke were not Ancient; maybe a dialect, but not the Ancient I know. He used the shields to back the people into an alcove. By now, Ronon woke up, and reclaimed his gun. Sheppard told us to leave, but we couldn't, mostly because we were hurting. Then the place started to rumble. Bringing up a console, Sheppard touched several buttons. I swear it sounded like a stardrive powering up._

"I did that?" John stared at the paragraph until his eyes hurt. _Yes, I did._

_...Not that it mattered. The people behind the shield were collapsing. Apparently, the shield contained properties that allowed for no air to pass through; ultimately suffocating anyone behind it._

The one thing John did remember was the bodies piled on top of each other when the AI let him go. Then, nothing but trees, and running and tiny open cuts on his arms. He watched his hands dial the gate, but couldn't remember the feel of the wet DHD under his fingers.

_...John led us back to the 'gate. I was afraid for his well-being; he had not uttered a word since leaving the caves. On our way to the 'gate, he stopped at an overgrown pillar. He pressed several indentations along the side of it, mumbling foreign words. Rodney mentioned John had done this once before on Atlantis during an electrical storm. Lightning struck the pillar, illuminating the object. Suddenly, the weather abated. The reason the storm had been so intense was due to the shielding needing to be reset. That is more Rodney's area of expertise._

"Not again!" John could've sworn lightning herder was not in his job description. But there it is. In writing. He fixed another lightning rod. _I'm not a freak. I don't think._

_...Yes. That is my area of expertise. Similar to the situation on Atlantis, the pillar was a lightning rod. While the city was imploding, the pillars were individually powered. At one time, maybe, they would have been connected to the city, but over the years, it seemed they grew independent of their main power source since it was failing. Once Sheppard activated the pillar, the shield came up, protecting the village from the inclement weather._

_Sheppard then performed first aid on each of us. Well, as best he could; he wasn't all there, really. Somehow he managed to get us all back to the 'gate. Even Ronon. How he managed to drag Conan all the way through the 'gate amazes me._

John did remember falling through the 'gate on top of Ronon, but not actually helping him. He rubbed at his temples trying to keep the headache at bay. The City kept pinging at him randomly, but John chose to ignore it.

"Why are you still here?" Rodney peaked around John's office door.

"What?" John squinted at his friend. "I'm just reading through this report."

McKay stepped fully into the office, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "And now you have another headache." He slowly assessed the man at the computer. "I'm sure you're tired, but you don't look as bad as you did yesterday."

"Thanks. I think." John scrunched his eyebrows, looking confused.

"The briefing is in five minutes, and we're gonna be late."

"But I'm not done reading this," John clutched the laptop; he needed to know the rest.

Rodney crossed his arms, setting his jaw. "No. You don't. There's no reason we should deal with any of your nightmares after you get the whole picture. You'll just start blaming yourself again, and – remember how this all started? Not discussing this with you." He reached over and slammed the laptop shut.

"McKay! I was –"

"No! I refuse to deal with this again. Let's go. If you want more, you'll have to hear it from Teyla and Ronon."

"Do you think –" John blurted, tapping a finger on the surface of his desk. "Do you think it could happen again?"

McKay opened his mouth, then closed it, looking suspiciously at his friend. He took a seat in front of the desk, folding his hands. Staring at a point beyond the colonel's shoulder, Rodney looked strangely compassionate. "Short answer? Yes." He rolled his eyes at John's shocked expression. "Oh, don't look at me that way. I'm not giving the _You Can Do Anything You Put Your Mind To_ speech, because you're not that dumb."

A shadow passed over John's face as it settled into his usual expression. But his eyes were still troubled. "Thanks. You know how to cheer up a guy."

"What do you want me to say?" Rodney stood up to pace the length of the office. "You won't be satisfied with any answer, so why am I wasting my breath, and, oh look! valuable time on you, when all you want to do is blame yourself anyway?"

"I know... I know it's not my fault, Rodney, but I..." Words couldn't describe what he was feeling.

Rodney came to stand in front of John. "You can't understand the reason, the _logic_ behind what happened to you. You can read those reports back to front and in between the lines, but you won't find your answer." He crossed his arms and lowered his head. "Look, I'm no good at this, but you have to let this go."

John nodded, glancing from the computer to his friend. "You're wrong. You're doing just fine."

A crooked grin altered Rodney's face. "Feel properly chastised? If not," he said, waving his hand. "I've got more where that came from."

_"Colonel Sheppard and Doctor McKay,"_ a voice over the intercom sternly announced. _"Please report to the conference room."_

Both men glanced at their watches. "That little pep talk cost us ten minutes, and now we're late."

"Relax, Rodney. Blame me."

"Oh no! I'm not adding fuel to that fire. And you still owe me MnMs."

8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8

John sat in Elizabeth's office as she finished the databurst to the SGC.

"You look better. How do you feel?"

The colonel smiled sheepishly. "Well, according to Rodney, I'm no longer wandering the halls like a ghost." He slouched back into the chair. "I can't believe the SGC waited this long for a report on that incident. How'd you do it?"

Elizabeth had the look of mischief in her eyes. "I told them the reports were on hold on the advice of my Chief of Medicine."

"Why, Doctor Elizabeth Weir! I do believe you engaged in some misdirection!" John's eyes rounded in exaggerated shock.

"As expedition leader and talented negotiator, I merely bought us enough time," she said formally, eyes glittering with amusement. She gazed into the dregs of her tea. "I'm just glad to have everyone somewhat back to normal."

"I hear McKay was a little upset," John said with a sad smile.

"He was not the one I worried about." She remembered the cold distance between her primary team and their leader. John Sheppard had physically disappeared off and on, but it was his mental absence that gave her chills. "Well, Colonel, I'm starving. Care to join me for lunch?"

With a lopsided grin, John rose and stretched his stiff muscles. "Absolutely."

8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8

the end!

There you have it, there it is. Please R&R!


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